It Sucks To Be Me
by Jubalint Ikinz
Summary: Canada is always being ignored, but the moment he wants, needs, to be alone; everyone decides to finally pay attention. CanadaX ? , Implied AmericaxEngland.Human names used.
1. Call one America

_**AMERICA, FUCK YEAH~!  
COMING TO SAVE THE MUTHA-**_

_Frick, Al._

"_Ah…_H-Hello?"

Alfred heard a slight pant in his brothers voice.

_Probably screaming at that polar bear thingy he has._

"Yo Mattie~! How's my favorite hat doing?"

"A-Al, this isn't…_ah_…a good time…can I-_nn_ - call you back?"

Alfred pouted. "Awww~! But I called you for a reason."

The American could hear a loud sigh along with a groan.

"What do you want Al?"

"…Do you remember Iggy's number? I think he deleted it off my phone, that douchebag." Alfred could have sworn he heard another voice, calling him a dumbass.

_PPFFT Whatever voices, I'm back on my meds._

"Did you see him last night?" Alfred thought for a moment.

"Yes."

"Have you showered yet today?"

He scoffed. "It's only 2 in the afternoon, no."

"Then look at you arm."

Alfred held the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he shuffled his bomber jackets sleeve up. In plain, black sharpie marker was a 7 digit number along with an 'endearing' note.(the word 'wanker' came up often.)

"Oh~!" he grinned. "Well, do you want to hang out today? Cause lata' today a brothers 'bout to have some seeeex~!" Alfred did a moon walk, because a HERO has talent like that.

"No, Alfred. I _ah-_ctually have plans."

"But Mattie—"

"_**JUST HANG UP!"**_With that the call ended. Alfred duly noted the sudden change in his brothers' voice; it seemed deeper with a heavier accent. But, with a glance at his arm he forgot all about his brothers issues and dialed Arthur's number.

"Pfft, Mattie needs to get laid." He chuckled, waiting for the connection.

* * *

**A/N: Oh Alfred, if you only knew…  
If you noticed a lot of references, then you win. If not, you still win. Cause I love you all.  
Reviews mean a new chapter.**


	2. Call two England

**_HOW COME EVERTIME I COME AROUND,  
MY LONDON, LONDON-_**

**_"SONOFA-"_**

_Alfred is not allowed to choose ringtones anymore._

"Just ignore it."

Matthew swatted a hand away from his vital regions. "Shh, just hand me my phone_…ah-stop..._Hello Arthur…you dialed Matthew."

"I'm not an idiot, Matthew." His selective hearing missed the scoff that came through the line. "Can't a man call his old colony, is that such a crime?" Matthew took note of the hushed tone of his former caretaker.

"Alfred's over there and you locked yourself into the bathroom, right?" Ah, the lad is even smarter than he remembered.

"…m'yes, I'm planning to sneak out through the window, do you mind if I—?"

"You are aware that if you leave, he'll just follow you." Arthur did know, but it didn't hurt to try.

"Well, yes, but if I—"

"You've done that before, he found you."

"But what if I—"

"Found you, had sex with you in Ivans' house."

"How about I—"

Matthew sighed, "Arthur, he's still going to find you, maybe not immediately but he will and I'm sure it will be worse giving it to him later, than just sucking it up and giving it to him now."

Arthur grimaced (true gentleman don't pout.)

"_Ah, quit it…" _Arthur heard the phone drop, then the sudden shuffle of cloth "_—t_, sorry Arthur, did you say something?"

Arthur stayed silent for a moment, "…Am I interrupting something?" In his mind, he believed his beloved brother Canada was still as pure as the snow that fell in his country. But if something was going on he had the right to know, (and supposedly the right to verbally abuse this person.)

"Oh, no Arthur," he gave a relieved sigh, "I'm just having some _fabulous **sex**_ that I'd like to get back to."

"WHAT?"

_"WHAT?"_ Alfred's voice was muffled from the door, but could still be heard.

"GIVE ME BACK MY PHONE YOU WHORE (1)!" Arthur pulled his ear away from the crack in Matthew's voice. He looked at his phone blankly, hearing only snippets of the conversation. Arthur couldn't understand the yelling, but he could notice the change in tone and words. What use to be vulgar insults and threats where now changing into…suspicious groans?

"Matthew Williams, I demand an explanation!" Arthur clutched his phone, almost cracking the screen.

"**_SUCK IT, OLD MAN_**." A voice cried into the phone, a grunt followed.

"_AH_—"Then the line went dead.

Poor Arthur was now alone with a blonde, schizophrenic boyfriend, and a head full of questions concerning his youngest brothers...supposedly non-existent…**_sex _**life.

"…I know what I'm posting on FMylife today…" Arthur muttered to himself.

* * *

**A/N: Oh~! I think I just spoiled it…  
(1) C'mon, if he turns bat-shit insane for hockey, he can be like that anytime.  
I'm not completely happy with this chapter. But your reviews keep me going!**

**_Ciao~!_**


	3. Call three Francis and some closure

_Creak, _"Ahh…!"

_Creak, "Ah~!"_

_SEXBOMB, SEXBOMB, YOU'RE MY SEXBOMB—_

"MATTHEW, WHAT THE HELL?"

"I SWEAR IT WAS FRANCIS!"

The man groaned as he placed his head between the junction of Matthew's neck and shoulder meeting. Flipping his hand in an uncaring motion, he said "Just answer it, I give up." Matthew pouted, grabbing the phone reluctantly.

"_Oui Papa_?" Matthew answered with a passive-aggressive tone.

"_Bonjour, mon cheri_~! Why did you not stay for _les Américains _New Year's party?" Matthew groaned, when he was there they didn't notice but when he wasn't…

"_Papa_, I was there for midnight, you just didn't see me…again." The petite Canadian ran a nimble hand through his lovers' hair, hopefully compensating for their interruption. Francis clicked his tongue.

"I am sorry, I did call to wish you to a new year of happiness and good health," Matthew smiled at the sentiment, the Frenchman continued, "I wish to talk more but I 'ave to find my _Prussie _friend, he 'az, 'ow you say, gone MIA." The Frenchman was awaiting his 'sons' farewell and good wishes when he heard the hush voices and the sound of frantic shuffling fabric from the other line.

"_Matthieu_, am I interrupting something~!" The Frenchman giggled, hoping to have some new gossip under his fashionable belt.

"Wait Gil—!"

"Hey Francis, it's your best most awesome friend in the world, Gilbert." Francis took a moment to process this.

He laughed nervously, "Gilbert, why are you at _mon petit Matthieu's_ house?"

Gilbert ran a pale hand through his rough hair, inhaling and exhaling a deep breath, he said, "I'm going to be completely honest with you. I was **fucking** him."

Francis heard the Canadian squeak in protest.

"Emphasis needs to be stretched out on the WAS, because for the last god damned month or two, you, England, and that unawesome YANK have been calling, and calling, and all that is seriously cockblocking me from a piece of hot Canadian ass, No Matthew, he needs to know, and before you go all 'Over protective father' and shit, I want you to know that yes we are in a relationship, it has been going on for a good year or two, I don't fucking know, and yes I god damn love him so right now, a brotha's 'bout to have some sex~!" With that short tune, Francis heard the familiar click and his ear was now met with a dull dial tone.

* * *

The poor strawberry blond boy groaned. This was not how his family was supposed to find out. The Canadian even planned it, a nice homemade dinner for the family, maybe even a movie night or two, just to calm everyone's nerves, then his lover would come over and with a calm, leveled head, then would tell of their relations. But of course, life just doesn't give Matthew freebees. He's been a good person! Honestly! Okay, maybe passively aggressively insulting and making the American cry was bad, but Alfred totally deserved it—

"Mattie~! You're not giving the awesome me your undivided attention~!" Gilbert chirped, sliding his rather cold hands up and down Matthew's torso. When did he even climb back into bed anyways?

Matthew slapped his lover passively, "That was uncalled for Gil." The Prussian snorted in response, snuggling his nose into the crook of his neck.

"So what? It was either tell them or walk in on us having sex." Encircling the small boys' waist, Gilbert raised him so Matthew would be straddling the Prussian as he lay on the soft pillows.

"Speaking of sex, I really want it, really, really bad." Matthew tried to look stern, but couldn't deny the sexual tension that was building from his position. Matthew thrusts his hips experimentally, not use to the feeling of being on top, "And yes, I want you to ride me."

The Canadian smirked, before leaning down to kiss the albino, Matthew stated, "You do realized that Francis is going to come over and I'm sure by now he's told Alfred and Arthur." He then gave Gilbert a quick kiss, again teasing him with a thrust of his hips.

Gilbert groaned contently, licking his lips and running his hands up and down Matthews slim thighs, "We'll make it a quicky, please~!" He almost begged, almost, because begging isn't awesome.

Matthew pondered, he was already in trouble with his family so what else does he have to lose? Coming to a conclusion, Matthew continued to snog his lover within an inch of his life, welcoming the New Year in the, and you can quote Gilbert on this, most kick-ass, mega awesome way known to man.

* * *

**A/N: I'm late; I'm late, for this very important date!  
Sorry for odd and nonexistent updates. But be assured that one of my New Year's resolutions was to finish at least two stories. This one counts!  
Like to wish you all a very happy 2010 and I hope you'll stay with me this entire year. And yes, I want to read and or write some PruCan sex times.**


	4. Oh Beyonce, what can't you do?

Matthew's back arched in pleasure as Gilbert grinded through their joining orgasms. His last scream was barley auditable, almost at a dog whistle high pitch. Gilbert grunted his name, thrusting a few more times before letting go of Matthews slim hips as he hunched over the albino. Gilbert slipped out of the Canadian, laying him close to his sweat slicked chest.

Matthew snuggled into the crevice of his lovers' neck, humming in a pleasured tone, "Hmmmm, I love you Gilbert." Said albino hugged the small blonde, kissing his cheek in uncharacteristic affection.

Gilbert didn't say it back, but Matthews been with the older man long enough to know that he's much loved by him. A kiss to his cheek was as equivalent to a declaration of love in front of the United Nations.

_VVVVZZZZZ._

_VVVVZZZZZZZ._

_VZZZZ—_

Gilbert shushed Matthew, encouraging him to sleep. Picking up the now buzzing phone, he answered in a hushed tone, "Hello? Gilbert the awesome here."

"GILBERT—"

"SHUSH! Matthew's trying to sleep here!" He snapped in a whisper, petting the now twitching Canadian. The phone delivered a sort of 'THWACK' noise along with a protest.

"What do you want, I'm really tired here and I just want this whole thing to be done," Gilbert rubbed his eyes in annoyance, half tempted to just shut the phone and be done with it.

"Hand me the phone you git!" Gilbert waited for the snapping to stop, "'Ello, listen, Francis argues that you love Matthew, but I don't believe that French bastard."

Matthew groaned, "Hand me the phone." Gilbert protested, but the blonde would have none of this nonsense, his stare said enough. Clutching the phone, he put the receiver to his ear.

"Arthur, I'm fucking tired, I've been having sex with Gilbert and I'm seriously not in the mood for your soon to be forgotten concern,"

"Matthew Williams! I've never—"

"I appreciate the thought, but please, can we discuss this next family night? Oh by the way, Gilberts coming with, just for the future reference, I love you dad, I'll see you next week, tell Al I said hi." With that, Matthew retched the battery out of the small device, throwing it against the wall along with the phone.

"That was your new blackberry," Gilbert said offhandedly. Matthew just snuggled into the warm comforter.

"Doesn't matter." He stated, "Now, please sleep." He pleaded. Gilbert melted a little inside, placing his arms around Matthew. _'This is nice,'_ they both thought, content with the now stillness of this house. No more interruptions, just the calming air of love and—

_**SHOULD 'AVE LEFT MY**_

_**PHONE AT HOME CAUSE THIS**_

_**IS A DISASTER—

* * *

**_

**A/N:** **Typical ending is typical**. **(Song is Telephone by Lady Gaga and Beyonce~!)**  
**At least it's over, amirite?  
One fic down, like three more to go. Review please~!**


End file.
